Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Namibia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Görl,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cure,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Agent Orange,
Whodini,
UT,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Slits,
The Doobie Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Judy Mowatt,
John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare,
Panda Bear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skaos,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Mantronix,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pretty Things,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
Little Man,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.